by Lucy Quinn
Dylan nodded. “That’s what I told him, too. But there’s the other thing.” He didn’t look at her, but she could guess what he meant.
“The money,” she supplied.
“The money,” he agreed. “He and Fleet found that treasure fair and square, but the money’s connected to both Fleet’s death and this whole thing with Brad, so he wasn’t sure if the judge would try to have it confiscated or not. Or whether he’d be able to access any of it once he’s sentenced.”
“I have no idea,” Cookie admitted after a second. “I think he’ll still have access to it, since the money itself wasn’t the result of a crime, but I’m not sure.”
“Yeah.” Dylan gently tugged his hand free and slid it into his coat pocket. “That’s why he wanted to see me. He gave me this.” When he pulled his hand back out, he was holding something small and plastic and familiar.
Cookie gaped at it. “He gave it to you?”
He nodded, holding the security token up so they could both see it. “He said he’s adding my name to the accounts, but even without that, I can use this to access that money any time I want—assuming the courts don’t freeze it.” His gaze met hers. “He wants me to do what he’s always done and give it to people who need it; locals, especially the kids. But, Cookie, there’s a fortune there. What if I screw it up? What if I don’t help someone who needs it, or give somebody else too much and make things worse? I’m not cut out for this.” His face twisted in anguish, and Cookie’s whole heart went out to him.
“Now, you listen to me, Dylan Creed,” she instructed, reaching up and cupping his cheeks in her palms. “You’re a good man and an honest one. I get that this is a huge responsibility, but Lester gave it to you because he trusts you to do the right thing. And he should. Because if there’s anybody in this world who isn’t going to let suddenly having access to millions of dollars change him, it’s you.” She smiled. “Once the courts give the all clear, I know you’re going to sweat every decision about this, but that’s good because it means you won’t make a single choice lightly. You know everyone on this island, and everyone knows you and loves you, too. You’ll know who needs help and how to help them without just giving them an easy way out. You’ll make sure they only get what they need, and that they still have to work at it, because you know that’s the only way it’ll ever mean anything to them.” She leaned in and kissed him gently. “And I’ll be here with you, every step of the way. You’ll be fine.”
His expression slowly smoothed, the turmoil fading from his eyes. “I might buy a new boat,” he admitted, and Cookie laughed even as his lips quirked into a smile.
“I think Lester would be fine with that,” she assured him gently. “As long as it’s not some crazy-ass yacht with marble floors and crystal chandeliers.”
That made him scoff. “A yacht? I’d tear the bottom out of that the first time I tried sliding into a cove,” he said, his smile spreading into a slow, sweet grin. He took her hands in his. “You mean it, though?” he asked, his eyes going steady and serious as he held her gaze.
“What, that you’re a good man?” she teased, knowing that wasn’t what he meant at all. “Of course.”
He frowned.
She laughed. “Yes, I meant it,” she promised, shifting closer to kiss him again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Their lips met, and they held the kiss a second before parting.
“Well, nowhere except maybe inside,” she added, hopping up from the swing. “It’s freezing out here.” Then she ran for the inn’s front door, laughing as Dylan growled and rose to chase after her.
24
The next morning, Cookie heard the front door open and close.
“Hello?” Dylan called out. “Anybody home?”
“Up here,” she shouted back. “Come on up.”
She lay back and listened to the sound of him clomping up the stairs. He wasn’t rushing, but he wasn’t dawdling either, and she smiled and stretched languorously, like a cat just waking from a long nap. Finally she heard him pause outside her bedroom door.
“Cookie?” he asked, and rapped on it twice.
“It’s open,” she replied, and propped herself up on her elbows so she could see better.
The door opened slowly, and Dylan stepped inside. He smiled when he saw her. “Hey, you,” he said softly, his dimples showing. He was still wearing his coat despite the fact that she’d cranked the heat an hour or so ago in order to make the whole place nice and toasty warm.
“Hey yourself.” She arched an eyebrow playfully as she said, “Shut the door.”
He did so, looking slightly puzzled. “Everything okay?” he asked as he approached the bed. “You said to meet you here.”
“Everything’s fine,” Cookie promised. She frowned. “Though you’ve got to be dying in that heavy coat. Just toss it on the chair there.”
A smile tugged at his lips as he stripped out of his outerwear. “Okay, you’ve got me out of my coat. Was that the extent of your plan?” He glanced at the closed door then asked, “Where is everybody, anyway? It’s awfully quiet.”
“Hunter headed out at dawn,” Cookie said. “Back to Philly. Mom went to visit Winter and take her those X-rated cookies. She took Scarlett with her.”
Now Dylan was the one raising an eyebrow. “So you’re saying we’re all alone here?” he asked softly, his voice going more gravelly than usual.
“I am indeed,” she agreed, batting her eyelashes at him. “And you can come up on the bed and give me a kiss, but only if you lose the shoes first.” She waggled her own sock-clad feet at him. “I’m not letting you track mud all over my comforter.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shucked his boots quickly, then came over and sat carefully on the edge of the bed beside her. “This okay?”
She frowned at him. “Not really. I’m not sure you’re getting the picture here.” Then she launched herself up to wrap both arms around his neck and collapsed back down, tugging him with her. “Much better,” Cookie purred as she felt the warm weight of him against her.
He started to say something, but she stopped him with a kiss. Then another. Then another, this one longer. Finally, she let him up for a breath of air.
“What’re we doing?” he asked after a second.
She laughed. “If you don’t know, all those girls you knew before me have got a lot of explaining to do.” He cocked his head at her, and she smiled but bit her lip. “I’m through playing games, Dylan,” she told him truthfully. “I know what I want—and who I want—and I’m done waiting or pretending or being polite.”
He smiled at her. “I know who I want, too. And you know that. But I’m good with taking it slow if that’s what you want. I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for.”
In response she tightened her clasp around his neck, tugged him close, and kissed him breathless again. “I am so ready,” she promised, her voice coming out rough and husky as she felt every inch of his heat from his nearness. “And I definitely want you.”
“You’re sure?” he asked again, and she could feel his grin as she kissed him. “Okay, then,” he agreed when she released his mouth once more. “What now?”
She smiled, slow and sensuous. “Now, my hot little local boy, you stand up and strip for me,” she ordered, lounging back like an empress commanding her slaves. “I liked what I saw at the revue, but this time I want a private show. And nothing in the way.”
He chuckled, still so close that the vibrations rumbled through her and sent a delicious shiver down her spine. Then he slowly pulled away and rose to his feet. “Your wish is my command,” he declared as he began to slowly, teasingly unbutton his flannel shirt.
“I wish for you to undress faster,” she growled. “I’m waiting, here.”
Dylan smirked at her. “You’re not exactly unclothed yourself,” he pointed out, still working on those buttons.
“Oh, you want me to take this off?” she teased, gesturing at the big, fluffy bathrobe she was
wearing. She tugged at the collar, causing it to fall open ever so slightly—and reveal nothing but smooth skin beneath. Dylan’s breath caught, and for a second he stopped what he’d been doing, transfixed by that peek.
“Are you—?” he managed to murmur through a throat that had apparently just gone dry.
“Completely naked under here?” She grinned. “Come and find out.”
He practically tore the rest of the buttons free trying to get out of his shirt.
Cookie laughed and lay back, waiting. Her whole body was alight with desire, but even as her heart sang, her mind was perfectly at peace. It was so strange, she admitted to herself as she enjoyed the spectacle of her boyfriend racing to undress so he could at last climb into bed with her. When she and her mother had first moved to the island, all those months ago, they had just been looking for a place to lay low.
She’d thought they were putting their life on hold; that this was just a pit stop until it was safe to go back to the city. But somewhere along the way, she’d come to realize that what she’d always thought she’d wanted out of life wasn’t really what she desired anymore. Maybe she’d already felt some of that before she’d left Philly, and that was why it had been so easy for her to decide to leave. Or maybe it had been moving here and seeing a different way of life that had made her realize what she’d been missing. But she knew now that she had finally come home.
She loved it here on Secret Seal Isle, the quiet and the calm and the people. She loved looking out on the water every day, sailing whenever the weather allowed. She loved the fact that Hancock was a short ferry ride away, but that the island itself was a refuge, not for her to hide in, but for her to relax and be herself without distraction or disturbance.
She knew that her life would never be boring. Not with Rain hopping from one crazy idea to another and Winter ready to go right along with her. Not with Sheriff Watkins ready to call on her at need and Swan so useless in all but the most mundane tasks. Not with Hunter only a few hours away if she needed him or he needed her. Not with Scarlett, who Cookie knew would continue to show up on unannounced the island, bringing energy and vivacity and big-city attitude right along with her.
And not with Dylan, who she was learning to know and appreciate more and more each day.
She gazed at the man in front of her who had just triumphantly tossed aside his jeans and was now standing in front of her, gloriously naked.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked as he prowled toward the bed with that same feline grace that had captivated her the first time she’d laid eyes on him.
In response, she undid the belt on her robe and let it fall away, finally revealing all of herself to him. And her heart swelled at the mixed lust, admiration, and love in his eyes.
“I’m ready,” she promised, reaching out to him. “Come here.”
The End
More Secret Seal Isle Mysteries are on their way.
Sweet Corpse of Mine is coming 2018! Find out more at www.lucyquinnauthor.com
Want to be one of the first to hear about new releases? Sign up for Lucy’s newsletter.
Secret Seal Isle Mysteries
New Corpse in Town
Life in the Dead Lane
A Walk on the Dead Side
Any Way You Bury It
Death is in the Air
Signed, Sealed, Fatal I’m Yours
About the Author
Lucy Quinn is the brainchild of New York Times bestselling author Deanna Chase and USA Today bestselling author Violet Vaughn. Having met over a decade ago in a lampwork bead forum, the pair were first what they like to call “show wives” as they traveled the country together, selling their handmade glass beads. So when they both started writing fiction, it seemed only natural for the two friends to pair up with their hilarious, laugh-out-loud, cozy mysteries. At least they think so. Now they travel the country, meeting up in various cities to plan each new Lucy Quinn book while giggling madly at themselves and the ridiculous situations they force on their characters. They very much hope you enjoy them as much as they do.
Deanna Chase, is a native Californian, transplanted to the slower paced lifestyle of southeastern Louisiana. When she isn’t writing, she is often goofing off with her husband in New Orleans, playing with her two shih tzu dogs, or making glass beads.
Violet Vaughn lives on and island in Maine where she spends most mornings in the woods with her dogs, summer at the ocean, and winters skiing in the mountains of Maine.
www.lucyquinnauthor.com
[email protected]